


We're the Kings of the Clouds - on hold indefinitely

by CielWritesShit



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 14:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17045174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CielWritesShit/pseuds/CielWritesShit
Summary: Logan is the son of successful businessman Andrew Alfreds. He's just finished his first degree at University when he gets a call from his mother telling him to come home and "learn how to be a real man". So, not having much of a choice, he does. This leads to him being taught Piano at Madame Helens.





	We're the Kings of the Clouds - on hold indefinitely

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been working on this for months now, and it's nowhere near done. But, I felt that I should finally release something. So, here you go.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan just wanted to continue his schooling, but his parents are not happy with that.

Some days, Logan wondered how he ended up in situations that he disliked. And then he remembered that it was usually his parents fault. This last one was definitely theirs. 

It was early May. Logan had picked up the phone, glaring as it had woken him up. He checked the time. 0525. Why was someone calling him at this ridiculous time in the morning? He’d been up until 3am the previous night, finishing up his final assessment for his master’s degree in astronomy, and he deserved to lie in until at least 9am.

He answered the phone.

Immediately, his mother’s voice filled his ear, causing him to wince as he sat up in his bed.

“Good morning mother. May I ask why you are calling this early on my first day off in about two months?” Logan reached for his glasses. The sharp voice of his mother filled his quiet room.

“Im calling to tell you that you are to return home after this year, it is time you learned how to be a proper gentleman. How else will you take over from your father when he retires? We will be expecting you home before August begins. Goodbye Logan.” A click signaled the end of the call. Logan didn’t even have chance to complain.

Sighing, Logan stretched, and got out of bed, since he wouldn’t be getting back to sleep anytime soon. He felt his bones click into place, and grabbed his dressing gown, before the cold drove him back into bed. Stumbling from exhaustion, Logan trudged into his kitchen. He only had a little apartment, so it wasn’t a particularly long walk, yet to him, it seemed to have doubled in length. Grabbing a bowl, and some milk from the fridge, Logan made himself some cereal. He started eating, pacing himself with the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Go home? Logan didn’t have much of a choice. If his parents wanted it,then he had to go home. But his heart said different things to his brain. His home was his little apartment, with its cramped rooms, fridge of food he’d bought, and nosy neighbours that truly meant well. Yes, it was small, and sure, it was half an hour away from his campus when he went on the bus, but he’d grown accustomed to life like this. He had complete control over how his day went, over what he ate, who he spoke to, when he slept. It kept him busy, and never got boring. If he went home, he’d be forced into a simple routine, never having to make choices. He hated that, but it seemed that he’d have no choice over this either.

Logan finished his breakfast and headed out, but not before deciding that if he had to stay with his parents, then he was going to make their lives utter hell to get back at them.

Which led to him arriving at 32 Greenview Place on July 31st. He’d given his keys back to his lovely landlady, with a promise that he’d try to visit her soon. He’d also sold most of his furniture, and eaten all of the crofters that was left in his kitchen, though that wasn’t a difficult task. He drove his car up onto the driveway of his parents house. Around him, the shrubbery was well kept, and topiary surrounded him, drawing the eye to the main attraction of the house. Even if he disliked the people who lived here, he had to admit that he loved what they’d done with the space in which they lived. 

Logan slowed to a stop, right in front of the front steps. He turned of the engine, and with a last smile, opened his door, wiping his face of any emotion. Looking up, he saw his parents standing on the top step, looking like they’d just stepped out of a magazine. His father, Andrew Alfreds, was the head of a bank, and well-respected throughout the country. He looked very similar to his son, though everything about him seemed sharp, as if he was a rosebush. Instead of a dark button-up shirt, he wore a white one, with a two-piece suit over it. He even had a monocle, ever the classy gentleman he was. His wife, Maria, was more of the same. Her features were also sharp, with high cheekbones, and her hair pulled back into a bun, emphasising the wrinkles on her forehead.

Logan closed the door to his car, and dropped his keys into the hands of a servant who had been waiting for him to do so. Logan nodded at the man, before walking towards his parents. Andrew held his hand out, and firmly shook his hand. Logan was treated as though he was a guest, here to discuss a business deal, and was not treated as though he was a son. He got the same treatment from his mother. She didn’t even welcome him. 

“Logan, Jamal will escort you to your room. I expect you to clean yourself up, then met us in the drawing room for tea. We will then discuss what will happen to you while you are here.” The butler of the household, Jamal, stepped forward, his dark eyes shining brightly. He had been working at the manor since Logan had started secondary education - high school - and was promoted to butler after Logan had been accepted into uni. 

Logan followed Jamal through the mahogany front doors, and marveled at how little had changed since he had left. There were still portraits hung on the walls, and side tables still had ornate vases on them. The only thing Logan could tell had changed were the flowers, as they no longer contained cornflowers, irises, and gypsophila, but instead held dahlias and fire lilies. Jamal led him up the stairs, past paintings of families that once inhabited the manor. Logan looked, but couldn’t find his favourite. Perhaps his parents had changed some things after all.

After climbing three flights of stairs, Logan found himself outside his old bedroom. However, when he entered, he realised how much his parents had changed it. There was a queen-sized, four-poster bed sticking out into the middle of the room, with an ornate blanket on show. The windows that had once held curtains with cartoon images of space on them, now had blue velvet hanging in their place. Logan then looked up, finding that all of his glow-in-the-dark stars had been taken down. In the corner of the room was a wardrobe, and next to that was a sleek, black desk, with a simple desk lamp on it. A black chair sat under it. Logan looked down, seeing that the wooden floor had been covered with a pale gray rug, that stretched all the way under the bed. The once covered walls had been painted white, and the whole room looked very sophisticated. And as much as Logan appreciated the simplicity, it wasn’t his room. He turned back to Jamal.

“I’m aware that most of the character of your room has been removed sir. Your parents thought it was for the best. Don’t fret, us servants saved as much as we could,” Jamal started to grin. “It’ll be back to normal in no time!” Logan let out a small smile.

“Thank you Jamal. Thank you for saving it. I’m assuming that while I shower, you and some of the other students will bring up my suitcase, and everything that you managed to keep?” Logan adjusted his glasses and removed his tie. Jamal nodded.  
“Excellent. Then I will go and get cleaned up.” Logan started to leave the room.  
“Oh, Jamal?” Logan looked back at the man, who straightened himself to attention.  
“You know that I’ve always hated Sir.”

“Yes bocchan.” Jamal was smiling, nostalgia lighting his eyes. Logan smiled again, before leaving the room to go and shower.

About an hour later, Logan made his way downstairs, and opened the door to another drawing room, this one set up for a tea party. However, the following conversation would be less like a party and more akin to a dictation. Logan refused to go down quietly though, and was ready to fight for some freedom. The next few hours were spent stripping Logan of any choice and forcing him to fit a schedule, that was meant to make him into the perfect gentleman. In reality, it just gave his parents complete control of him from the moment he woke up tto the moment he slept (though he was later advised (courtesy of Jamal) that he could always sneak out after curfew, and that the servants would help him with that).

The thing that Logan had to look forward to, were his piano lessons, that would happen twice a week at Madame Helen's. Each would be an hour, with half an hour to get him to and from the studio. A full hour and a half to himself. He couldn’t wait for them to start. He was to be taught by Gordon, who also taught a plethora of other instruments. Logan had been playing the piano for years, so even if he had to learn, it was something that he could enjoy.

So, as he stared at his ceiling that night, in his uncomfortable bed, he found it easier to fall asleep than he thought it would be, as he imagined all of the people he might meet at this Madame Helen’s place. At the very least, Jamal had faith in that studio.


End file.
